50 MEMOIR OF DR. HARVEY. 



mind," &c., brought up to me on every occasion. It is tan- 

 talizing to be congratulated on what I do not possess. If you 

 had the jaundice, how would you like to be praised for your 

 good looks ? So, for charity's sake, let this matter rest for the 

 future. 



To Mr. J. Harvey, New York. 



Dublin, February 10, 1835. 

 Well, what of the Cape ? To me the prospect, though not 

 monetically speaking bright, is one of much pleasure and profit. 

 I look forward to many charming discoveries in that beautiful 

 part of the world ; and if I do not achieve wealth, at least I 

 hope for a moderate competence. 



It is an old saying, A man does not change his mind by crossing 

 the sea — I forget the Latin, and who said it — so 'tis yet to be 

 proved whether the atmosphere of South Africa will have suffi- 

 cient vivifying effect on my capacity to cause it to germinate 

 handsomely. Botany is a bore ! What a pity to be chained 

 to a science which empties the pocket continually, and never 

 returns anything thereto. To the mind, it is true, it does 

 return a vast amount of pleasure, and a sparing quantity of 

 instruction. I wish we had stomachs like butterflies. The 

 caterpillar very properly has a stomach which almost fills its 

 whole body, but no sooner does it cease to crawl and has got 

 wings, than this organ shrinks to a very small space, and never 

 afterwards requires more nourishment than a few drops of honey. 

 How convenient would such a formation be for a botanist. He 

 might then defy the frowns of fate, and add interminably to his 

 stores. Interminably ! I forget Death. 



While the preparations for the voyage were being completed, 

 William paid farewell visits to his friends in Ireland, and also 

 to Dr. Hooker, in Glasgow. Of his school haunts, he writes to 

 a relative : — 



" Newtown is much as I left it. Saw the old ground, and 

 thought of Gray and Eton College. Though I care not for 

 place associations, yet I did, I confess, go over the locality with 

 pleasure. I saw my old garden — the ground the same, the 

 plants changed, like their owner — Ballitore empty. ' Within 

 a few years' little range, oh, what a change !' Six years since 

 I saw it. The fox cover is full of lovely fungi, and one, the 



